Monday, September 13, 2010

You're getting very sleepy ...

I have gone through these phases in my life where I have been psychic for a spell. It's not a who-do voodoo psychic, it's more innocuous. More this song is going to be on the radio than you, sir, will get a skull fracture break dancing in five minutes. I'm already a pretty intuitive person, and this is like intuitive on crack.

So it's always kind of fun. This foray into super heroism. No harm, no foul. I went through a pretty serious period in college where I started keeping lists of the things I just knew, and that list filled an entire sheet of notebook paper. They didn't happen every day, but often enough. And then it just went away for awhile. I'm not sure what any of it means, or why I am sometimes more tuned in to it.

I was sitting in a small group on the first day of Freshman English. We were sharing biographical info with our classmates and a guy I was partnered with told me his dad owned a store. I looked at him and said "[Name of the store]." It was very creepy and stalkerish. Unfortunately, this is the only event I remember, and I've lost the list.

Anyway, it's back. It started with an email from a friend who told me she had been hired to work at a theater, and I knew what theater it was before she told me. And then driving home the other night, I specifically turned on "Fresh Air" because I had a feeling Terry Gross was interviewing Jonathan Franzen. And, of course, I was right in both instances.

So it's all very boring, and nothing that will get me rich on the carnival circuit. But it is just this vaguely interesting thing. Like a mole in the shape of Mother Theresa, or a limp.

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